Dark Scott
by Tak
Summary: Scott was raised by the Six Pack, and not by Xavier. Interestings changes in the way he see the world. Dark, but not too much. Will post more soon.
1. Default Chapter

The last job I did as a jack-of-all-trades was a personal one. Jack- of-all-trades are mercenaries that will do anything they are paid for. We kill, steal, kidnap and even protect. The only good side is that you can choose the jobs and that once our services are highly specialized we can ask for high sums for our money.  
  
I was 13 when I was found on the streets. Starving, pretty face, you know the rest. Been there for 3 years. Had every and any STD but Aids. I tried to steal the purse of a woman. She followed me, she attacked me, I fought back, wasn't giving up the only meal I had on 5 days so easily. She won, knocked me out.  
  
I awoke tied to a bed. Most people would be dismayed. I was calm; the worst they could do was selling me as a white slave. I already sold myself on a daily base. Once you weight it, taking up the ass is not so bad if the alternative is starving on New York City winter. It was quite an interesting scenario when you stop to think about it. I, a whore, was tied on a bed on Christmas night thinking that being sold, as a catamite would not be so bad. It happens when you begin to think that the man you let fuck you for money are in the truth doing you a favor, money for food and some minutes on a place that isn't freezing.  
  
It turned out being much better them I thought. The woman was a mercenary. She was impressed with me, the way I fought, as if my life depended on it. We both knew it did.  
She adopted me. She was not old enough to pass as my mother, early thirties, but we both knew she would never have children, she was not the kind that would settle down and bake apple pies. I didn't call her mum; she was more like an older sister, or an aunt. Anyway, I learnt to love her.  
She trained me, taught me all she could, not all she knew. Some things you need to learn by yourself. She didn't congratulate me for the first man I killed. She comforted me.  
  
My last job was personal. Some excuse of human being called John Grey decided that our government spends too much money on Children Care. The fact that he is a republican senator doesn't help. The truth is that with the costs of the 2 wars the Texan invented and the cost of his taxes our Budget is dammed. They need creative ways to match the incomes and the outcomes. The best way, take the money from someone who can't protest, the orphans.  
Hitler did the same on his time, first he denied the Jews the right to protest, and then he stole their money, property and freedom. It's really easy to find similarities between Auschwitz and Boy's Town.  
The bill was masked as an expansion of the projects, which is the best way to acquire votes. In the truth it the new Children Care budget will be 50 % of the original.  
  
Over than 100.000 children over the U.S. live by selling some kind of sex trade. There are not many good programs to help them. I know, been there, done that. The jackass wants to eliminate the few ones we have.  
  
Over his dead body.  
  
I'm not subtle, Dom told me once I haven't picked it from her, and I was already pretty blunt when we met. I have to agree.  
So, I left a bloody knife and a message for him beside his newborn granddaughter crib. It's an open threaten, if the bill passes, she'll die. Of course, I would never kill a little girl; I already have my own little person and would kill anybody that tried to hurt him, which I already did.  
The trick is that he doesn't need to know it, you see, fear is one of the most potent weapons known to man. Add it to anger and you had put your enemy off balance, so, he will make errors.  
You can see a pattern in fear actions. They are reactions, so, they are poorly planned and poorly executed. In the end they tend to aid the enemy on their quests instead of stopping them.  
  
I'm glad to know he didn't purpose the bill; it would be very complicated to kill him, not the process, of course, I'm well trained, but the day after would be hell. I'm working with his daughter now, and she is a telepath.  
  
It was my last free-lance job. Right now more important matters needs my full attention. 


	2. Monsters

My favorite pastime is building systems, any kind of system. This is what makes me good at developing security systems. This is what makes me good at breaking into them.  
  
You wouldn't believe what you can find once you have free access to some Top Secret projects. Once you know the tricks a military compound isn't so invulnerable. I'm lucky my discoveries came near a major holyday, 4th of July, so the military personnel are busy at the parades. The compounds are working with minimum personnel.  
  
Very interesting research they do here, improvements to the robots Red Skull developed on WW2.  
  
Giant robots with a mutant detection system; you don't have to be a genius to see what it means. Oh, wait; there are more, a research facility with a living specimen, MWMY 002. Male White Mutant Youth, number 2. Doesn't say his name, only his location and that he is a freak. Time to set the bomb and get out. The good thing about government military research is that they value the velocity of the results over security, so all you have to do is make something major blow up and they will think it was a security failure. Set the bomb for 12:00PM, so it will destroy all the research, the blueprints and the men behind them.  
  
Of course, the fact that several compounds doing research for the Sentinel Project were being blown up for some months now must have turned on an alert somewhere. Even the government security personnel aren't so incompetent. When I don't have the resources or the time to do the job, I just have to give Erik the instructions and he makes sure it is executed perfectly. This is the bright side of dealing with a "Crazy Evil Mutant Terrorist with an megalomaniac complex"; the words are from NSA's chief shrink. Oh, hell, what do shrinks know?  
  
Well, he's wrong, Erik is not crazy. I really can't argue about the others points, but he isn't crazy. He's very lucid indeed; he knows the true human nature and won't risk the security of his people for empty words. You can take the boy from Auschwitz but you can't take Auschwitz from the boy.  
  
He operates by Machiavelli and Sun Tzu, which is good, but leaves few room for new ideas, and make him don't pay enough attention to details.  
  
The battle can't be avoided, but we can take time to study our enemy and to prepare ourselves.  
  
Coming back to the point, MWMY 002, he is inside a minor research facility in Nevada. What the hell, I've ever wanted to visit Las Vegas, all the bright lights and the chance to test my ability at calculating probabilities at a professional poker's table.  
  
The facility security is poor. The secrecy of its location made them feel safe. They made errors, like a too small security staff. All them ended dead. For records, MWMY 002, or Jonothon Starsmore as I prefer to call him, is dead too. You see, I prefer to call them by their given names, or by the names they choose themselves rather than by codes. You dehumanize them when you call them by a code.  
He's very good to be dead. He doesn't pay taxes, doesn't receives bills by the mail, doesn't have to talk to that annoying salespeople by the phone, and doesn't have giant red plastic robots chasing his sorry ass across New York's streets.  
  
Jonothon Starsmore is the second mutant they caught. The first was Julio Richter, a Mexican boy that rocks the world. Starsmore is an English guy. Apparently, their tests destroyed part of his body; it looks like something exploded inside of him, leaving a hole on his chest, neck and lower face. I believe that whatever power the boy has, they tried to contain it to see what happened.  
  
Like when Mengele tied together the legs of a woman that was giving birth, just to see what would happen. You see, I had access to these files inside one of their compounds, before I blew it up. Apparently their speech that Mengele's research at Auschwitz was too monstrous to be ever used by mankind was just a speech. Words have no meaning without actions to back them.  
  
And they ask why we destroy their research compounds. At least, the destruction isn't of common knowledge. You see, when a secret research facility explodes it's very hard to hunt the terrorists behind this act, primarily because you can't tell why you are hunting them. It's a secret facility, for God's Sake; nobody is supposed to know it existed. Nobody is supposed to know you dismembered mutants there. What the hell, nobody is supposed to know mutants exist.  
  
That's how I found Julio Richter. He was not dismembered, but that was more for lack of material than for lack of willingness. I can say that had I not find him; he would not remain in just one piece for a long time. Dissection of a living subject gives a much deeper insight in its anatomy than anything else.  
  
You can think about the possibilities. Look at the role on Jonothon's chest and tell me I was wrong to break through a military compound, breaking several rules, just to save a boy who isn't older than 15.  
  
Had my brother lived, he would 15.  
  
They think about us like terrorists. Well, we defend our people, using all means necessary. They hunt us, slave us. In this pace, they will have to call the French Resistance a terrorist movement. Think about it, they killed members of the institutionalized government. Members of a government that was trying to enslave them. Oh yeah, soon they will put Charles DeGaulle's photo in the same place they've put Usama Bin Laden's. The fact that DeGaulle is dead for some decades will make no difference. With the budget they have for education now, it's no wonder why our students have no idea of who Charles DeGaulle was.  
  
By their standards George Washington was a terrorist.  
  
Abraham Lincoln had a terrorist mind.  
  
"Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, can not long retain it."  
  
"Whenever I hear any one arguing for slavery I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally."  
  
What is to imprison someone against their will if they did nothing to hurt their equals if not slavery?  
  
"As I would not be a slave, so I would not be a master. This expresses my idea of democracy. Whatever differs from this, to the extent of the difference, is no democracy."  
  
If we can't have a democracy to all, this is not a true democracy. The ones that have lived before us, the ones that fought and died on this land to assure their children would be free made all those sacrifices for nothing. They bleed for nothing. They died for nothing.  
  
Who is the true monster?  
  
Does someone need to have fangs and fur to be a monster? Does it make someone a monster? Or the monstrosity is in the hearts of the ones that want to kill all that is different? 


	3. Red Army Blues

Red Army Blues - The Waterboys  
  
When I left my home and my family  
  
my mother said to me  
  
"Son, it's not how many Germans you kill that counts  
  
It's how many people you set free!"  
  
So I packed my bags  
  
brushed my cap  
  
Walked out into the world  
  
seventeen years old  
  
Never kissed a girl  
  
Took the train to Voronezh  
  
that was as far as it would go  
  
Changed my sacks for a uniform  
  
bit my lip against the snow  
  
I prayed for mother Russia  
  
in the summer of '43  
  
And as we drove the Germans back  
  
I really believed  
  
That God was listening to me  
  
We howled into Berlin  
  
tore the smoking buildings down  
  
Raised the red flag high  
  
burnt the Reichstag brown  
  
I saw my first American  
  
and he looked a lot like me  
  
He had the same kinda farmer's face  
  
said he'd come from some place called Hazzard, Tennessee  
  
Then the war was over  
  
my discharge papers came  
  
Me and twenty hundred others  
  
went to Stettiner for the train  
  
Kiev! said the commissar  
  
from there your own way home  
  
But I never got to Kiev  
  
we never came by home  
  
Train went north to the Taiga  
  
we were stripped and marched in file  
  
Up the great siberian road  
  
for miles and miles and miles and miles  
  
Dressed in stripes and tatters  
  
in a gulag left to die  
  
All because Comrade Stalin was scared that  
  
we'd become too westernized!  
  
Used to love my country  
  
used to be so young  
  
Used to believe that life was  
  
the best song ever sung  
  
I would have died for my country  
  
in 1945  
  
But now only one thing remains  
  
but now only one thing remains  
  
But now only one thing remains  
  
but now only one thing remains  
  
The brute will to survive!  
  
The song above is Scott's song. At least in my fic it is. I've heard it on a movie about the Ulster and it fitted what Scott as a glove. Hope, treason and the brute will to survive.  
  
Tak  
  
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I know so much about U.S. Government's modus operandi because they created me. Some of their best instructors taught me how to think, how to plan, how to kill. It was only 6 months after the Six Pack adopted me that S.H.I.E.L.D. contacted them with the propose of full pardon and lots of money if they became a Fury's personal assault team.  
  
They accepted. Dealing with Middle Eastern dictators is not funny. They send you to suicidal missions and tend to forget the number of your bank count. Most of times, being paid is more problem than the mission itself. You hear about a mysterious explosion on Kuwait's Sheik personal garage that destroyed 6 of his Rolls Royce and it's very possible it was only Beatriz Domineaux PMS-ing. They only believe you are serious when you threaten to shot their Picassos. It's not that they know art, or even like them. If it's expensive, they like it.  
  
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s missions don't pay as much as frightened Sheiks, but they give you more information, support and consist basically in destroying terrorist complexes and capturing assassins.  
  
I didn't betray them. In the truth, I didn't betray S.H.I.E.L.D at all. They have no motives to come after me. For the US government to convince them to hunt me, they would have to give the Security Council data about their secret research facilities and the why someone would want to blow them up.  
  
Neither did Fury betray me. Officially I was an intern at Fury's new base. By this I was untouchable.  
  
You see, there weren't many known mutants and they needed a new specimen to test their prototype. That led them to Madeline Summers, an 18 year-old mutant. By the day we married I promised her I would protect her and our son with my life. She used her body to stop a bullet that was directed to Nate. She died in my arms.  
  
I'm not someone you could describe as driven by his passions, but this meant war, so I began to gather information about them. Some would say not all them are at fault, and that my quest to protect my people put me on their level if I'm using their methods. You don't kill civilians. You don't kill the messengers. Well, I'm not killing civilians. Oh, yeah, I'm killing scientists and soldiers, but they aren't innocents. Not really. Some people would consider their excuse that they were just following orders acceptable. I don't.  
  
Heinrich Eichmann said he was only following orders. For refusing to kill, it would mean his death, and it would be a futile sacrifice since there were many willing to do the job. He was found guilty for his acts. None of the Nazi officers that used the command chain as their excuses were found innocent. Always there is a choice, even if the choice is death.  
  
You can't trust governments for their promises are as vain as the paper they were written. For example, after the war, West Germany government intelligence agency was composed by the men that gave advises to Hitler, Military Intelligence officers, SS and Gestapo's (Geheime Staatz Polizei) officers that avoided imprisonment.  
  
I found Maddie on the streets. She was malnourished, dirty and smelled like a wet dog. It was love at the first sight.  
  
She made me remember myself. At that time I was living alone. The Six Pack was in a mission, and Fury thought it was a good idea for me to live alone among civilians to tune my stealth skills. Sometimes the best place to be invisible is among the common people.  
  
I thought it would be nice to do to someone what Dom did for me. Maddie became the reason I wanted to come back home everyday. For the first time in years I was truly happy. For the first time in years I felt like I was alive.  
  
When you spend years at the streets you learn quite early to don't be attached to people, it will only hurt you in the end. The idea was right when I think I shouldn't become attached to Maddie, it only hurt me, but then I remember the time we spent together, how happy I was. I can see her in Nate, the way he frowns when I refuse to do something he wants, the way he laughs.  
  
I swear to a God I don't believe I'll protect my son by any means necessary. He will have a future, even if I have to kill all the shitheads in Washington.  
  
Working with the Six Pack was very good. I learnt a lot about stealth operations, how to use a gun, how to buy a gun, how to achieve information, how a team works. It was also good because I earned my own money. Working in a mercenary team means you learn how to operate on the black market. Once you have the contacts you can get almost anything if you can pay for it. Money is not a problem if you are daring enough. If you steal illegal money, there's nothing they can do. What will they say? 'Oh yeah, marshal, somebody stole 5 million dollars from my Swiss account. Where did I get the money? Why isn't it in my IR declaration? Oh, you see.' My targets of choice are senators that voted 'yes' to the Sentinel Program. Now I have US$25 million in cash and some more I've invested. Why not denunciate them? I thought about it, but discarded the idea when I came to the conclusion it wouldn't make a difference. Their replacements would be the same, just younger.  
  
Of course, I have some money from my parents' life insurance and both my salary for the time I worked with the Six Pack and for S.H.I.E.L.D.  
  
Destroying their research facilities won't stop them just delay the discoveries. I needed something to counteract the detection device. I showed Eric my problem and he gave me the name of Henry McCoy, a scientist that may have the means to solve my problems.  
  
Henry McCoy, a genius, two PhDs at the age of 26. He gave up his research to teach chemistry and be a coach at a public high school. He disappeared after a strange incident at said school.  
  
Eric gave me his current address, Westchester County, Bayville, Greymalkin Lane, 1470. Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. He assured me I wouldn't be difficult to convince Dr. McCoy to cooperate once I talked to him, but that I would have to pass his guards. He told me it would be save if I entered by the front door instead of sneak through their security system.  
  
A black Land Rover, as save as anything I could find. They have a good security system. Too good, too sophisticated for them to be just a school as they claim to.  
  
"I'm Scott Smith, I would like to talk to Dr. McCoy, please." Intercom, radio and wire, good choice, reliable even when there's no power.  
  
"Oh, uh, excuse me, but there's no Hank McCoy here." Young voice, male, teenager, probably at middle teens.  
  
"I didn't say his first name was Hank."  
  
"Shit."  
  
So I wait. 20 minutes. They send the cavalry to receive me.  
  
A short bulky man that that grunts a lot. A tall redhead that makes me remember of Maddie. A black boy with blond hair.  
  
"Follow me." Grunts the short man.  
  
An old man on a wheelchair greets me. Bald, middle forties.  
  
"I'm Charles Xavier, headmaster of the Institute. I would like to know why you want to talk to Dr. McCoy." English accent.  
  
"I believe you are a mutant. This 'institute' appears to be the home of several mutants. Am I wrong?"  
  
The short man grunts. The redhead frowns. The bald man remains impassible.  
  
"And if you are?"  
  
"Then you and I would have a lot in common."  
  
"I see. Eric sent you." A statement.  
  
"Yes. I asked him for a trustable scientist and he gave me Dr. McCoy's name."  
  
"May I ask how did you meet Eric?"  
  
"We have some interests in common."  
  
"I see. This way please."  
  
He motions to a wall. I've learned to don't take things for their appearance, so I expect some kind of secret passage. An elevator greets me. My instincts were not wrong, they are not just a school, there are more. By the little I can see, much more.  
  
He motions me to enter the elevator and across a titanium corridor. A big titanium door, like the ones you would find at the Picard's Enterprise. Oh yeah, Nate loves Star Trek; he makes me watch it every time I'm at home and Xavier makes me think about Picard. The first time Nate saw Geordi he pointed him, pointed my visor and began to laugh.  
  
Dr. Henry McCoy is a blue furred mutant with oversized hands and feet. He has the posture of a gorilla. Makes me remember the cookie monster. If Nate comes to meet him it will be love at the first sight.  
  
"Dr. McCoy."  
  
"Hank, please."  
  
He nodes to me.  
  
"Scott."  
  
"Mr. Xavier, I believe it would be better if the children weren't present to our conversation."  
  
"Wait there mister, I'm no children, I'm 18 and it don't like you are much older than me." A redhead with a temper. My Maddie.  
  
"I assure you, Jean can stay. It won't be a problem."  
  
"If you say so."  
  
I show Hank McCoy the blueprints of the detection device and of the Sentinel.  
  
"I believe they won't be operational for 6 months at least. The research is below the chronogram for at least one year. They had a prototype, but it's not operational."  
  
"I would like to hear from you, Scott, how did you get the blueprints? They are very interesting."  
  
"I broke through some research facilities."  
  
"And the delay on the research?"  
  
"I detonated some explosives inside the labs."  
  
"Nowadays, it's very easy to replace equipment, there's little effect in destroying a lab."  
  
"Not if the scientists are inside the lab when you explode it."  
  
"The blueprints and the shared data?"  
  
"Computer virus, a very specific specimen, it destroys the mainframes by erasing the data and turning off the refrigeration system. It's sad there were other data on the mainframes, but it was a valid sacrifice."  
  
It's very interesting when you can talk about destroying labs; killing scientists and giant robots like you are having tea and cookies. I'm sure they had something like this before, maybe green little men, talking dogs, well, they have cookie monster.  
  
"I was informed of several loses to the scientific world on the last 10 months, but I had no idea they all were involved in something like that."  
  
"Most of them knew what they were doing."  
  
"What do you want from me, Scott?"  
  
"A device to avoid detection by the Sentinels, something small.  
  
He nods.  
  
"I believe you can continue to tamper their progress."  
  
"No, I can't, they've put detection arrays on the facilities."  
  
"So we can't lose time."  
  
"If you may follow me, Mr. Smith." Xavier.  
  
"Of course."  
  
He leads me to his library. The redhead and the runt follow us.  
  
"I would like to know, Mr. Smith, if you agree with Eric's goals?"  
  
"What part? The one about world domination or the one about assuring our survival?"  
  
"Both."  
  
"I agree with the latter, the former is too ambitious and tricky for my liking."  
  
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Sorry, but for now it ends here. I'm beginning my tests week and I'll not be able to post for at least 2 weeks.  
  
I've been working on the next chapter for a while now, so I believe I'll be able to post a week before Christmas.  
  
Tak 


End file.
